


Wordplay

by slightly_murderous_sorcerer (emerald_witch_esmeralda)



Category: Versailles (TV 2015)
Genre: Cousin Incest, Drunken Kissing, Implied Sexual Content, Kinda, M/M, charlou, except for the whole gay part, go off I guess, ok 1600s, period-typical incest, the cousin thing was fine, the gay thing was not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:55:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24601180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emerald_witch_esmeralda/pseuds/slightly_murderous_sorcerer
Summary: Louis decides to negotiate the Treaty of Dover himself, Henriette isn't in any condition to travel and spending time with his cousin couldn't hurt...besides, he's always been fond of Charlie's stories. But when things don't go the way that he hoped, he decides to try a more...under-coversapproach.
Relationships: Charles II/Barbara Villiers (mentioned), Louis XIV/Charles II of England (Versailles 2015)
Kudos: 1





	Wordplay

**Author's Note:**

> Is this me, writing a story *without* smut?! Le GASP! (I may write the smut as its own oneshot, still debating).
> 
> At first I thought that drorny was a word I made up but nope, Urban Dictionary already had it...tho not exactly in the way I had in mind. Originality FTW ;)  
> Anyway, I'm done rambling now. In the words of Michael Bolton: "Now back to the good part!"

"Sire, I don't believe that sending Princess Henriette is exactly the most...expedient idea." Colbert answered his sovereign, praying to God that the nervousness he felt wasn't visible on his face. He was a seasoned minister, he was used to being in the thick of it. But it was never easy to deny Hurricane Louis what he wanted or even speak against it, unless you wanted the storm to bear down on you.  
"Why?" The king's icy blue eyes started to darken, his face becoming tight-lipped. Oh Jesus, here it comes.  
"Well, Her Highness does not have the experience required! The stakes could not be higher, perhaps we should send someone who is more seasoned in these matters? Plus there is a spy in your court. Her Highness may come to great harm on this journey. Also, the princess' health has always been delicate and the miscarriage she recently suffered will not help matters. The English weather may due further damage, and the Duc d'Orleans would..."  
"Who ever said that I was going to tell him?"  
"Perhaps not Sire, but Prince Philippe isn't stupid. He'd eventually find out." Louvois chimed in, and for one of the rare few times they agreed on anything, Colbert was grateful to him. Louis fell quiet, sinking down into his chair and refusing to look anywhere but straight in front of him. Each moment of silence felt like hours, and Louvois shifted uncomfortably. "Majesty?" Louis' stoic face turned from stormy and slowly back into its calm, unreadable mask.  
"Quite right, we don't wish to place Her Highness in danger." Colbert nearly fainted on the spot in relief. "But, we still need to secure England before William of Orange gets his grubby little claws into that place...I shall go to England myself."  
"Majesty! That would be..."  
"Be what?!"  
"Dangerous! You could get killed, and if you fall then France falls! Plus, the court is in disarray! You simply cannot leave now!"  
"I'll be fine. Plus, it's been a long time since I've spoken with my dear cousin. I want to show him that I'm not the little boy he saw on his last visit. Don't look at me like that, Jean...I'll of course make all the necessary preparations before departing. The queen will be in charge until I get back." Marie-Therese was intelligent...and he didn't have to worry about plots forming around her name like he did his brother, Philippe wasn't involved in any of these plots (so far), but he was a figurehead for rebellion and Louis had always known it. His mother had witnessed it with their uncle Gaston, that's why she had gone so far to raise them the way she did...even though the prince hadn't proven himself any less than trustworthy. If only Philippe could see it wasn't personal, that he was just trying to protect them both. That little voice in Louis' head knew what had to be done, even if Philippe didn't always know.

  


  
“His Majesty, the king of France is here to see you, Sire.” Charles’ valet had seen fit to inform him, making the newly crowned king arch a dark eyebrow. "Louis? Why did he not send an ambassador, or a diplomat?"  
"It seemed that he felt it would be better to come here himself, Majesty."  
"What is he here for? It's terribly bad form to show up unannounced, and he knows that."  
"He wouldn't say, Sire. He only insists that this matter is of the greatest import and that he had to see you, he had no time to send a letter."  
"Odd's fish! My little cousin is an odd fish indeed. Very well, send him in."  


  
Louis purposefully strode into the room, the gold brocade of his coat a pop of eye-watering color in the oft-somber English court. He was still much shorter, much to Charles' amusement, but that was all that remained the same as far as appearances went. He'd gotten broader in the shoulders, more confident in his strides. His little cousin was all grown up, it seemed.  
"Majesty." Louis bowed, brown hair falling around him like a curtain. Charles returned the gesture, flashing the younger king an affectionate, if somewhat wary and condescending smile. "Lulu!” He shouted loudly, bounding down from his throne to wrap his cousin in a tight hug. Louis stiffened in surprise before slowly returning the gesture, awkwardly patting the taller man's back as far as he could reach. They turned to look at each other, Charles holding him by the shoulders as they split. "It’s been a long time, little cousin! I'm glad that you've decided to come to visit. However, I'd have been even gladder of it if you'd announced you were coming. We could have prepared for your arrival."  
"I apologize...but this was absolutely urgent."  
"I'm sure. But first, how have you been? What has little Lulu gotten up to since the last time we saw each other...besides building that big fancy palace."  
"Versailles is a work of art." Louis said stiffly. Once again, his cousin was trying to goad him like they were once again children playing at tennis except sovereigns of kingdoms. "A symbol of France's glory, a..."  
"Gilded birdcage to trap your enemies, yada yada." Charles said flippantly with a wave of his hand. "You're still as long-winded as ever, little cousin. That was always a bad habit of yours, using large words to make yourself seem bigger. I remember when you were a child and you tried that, I suppose me whipping the thesaurus out of you served no purpose except to make you extremely indignant." Charles chuckled at the image of plucking the little King off the ground like he was ripe fruit and taking a cane to his bottom when Louis had annoyed him for the final time. Even at nine years old, he had said some rather colorful things in between the shouting. Louis' face was flooding with scarlet now just as it did all those years ago. "You had no right!" he gritted out, and the image of a tiny Louis in all his regalia shouting his little lungs out that Charles had no right to strike a crowned king entered his mind. "If you're going to mock me, I'll be right back off to France..." He made to turn on his heel, but Charles stopped him. "Lulu, I jest! Remember when we used to tease each other, we had great fun! What's made you so uptight?!"  
"I'm no longer the child you used to tease and harry, Charles. I've gained a great deal of wisdom since then."  
"Seems to me that the only thing you've gained in my absense is weight, little cousin." Charles laughed uproariously, and Louis made a growling sound deep in his throat. "If you're _quite_ finished, I came here to speak to you man-to-man!"  
"Oh...right. Well, I'll have a chair brought and we shall do all the talking you wish."  
"Thank you."  
"Do cool your head, Lulu. You're a big boy now, showing anger in public isn't proper. Anyway, how are the rest of the cousins? Philippe...is he still with that horrid man?"  
"Why are you concerned about it?" Louis demanded.  
"I'm concerned, because Henriette complains to me about it. She tells me of how she's bullied and suffers at the hands of this...Lorraine. As king, as a _cousin_ why have you not done anything about it? Unless you're sympathetic to him."  
"I love Henriette well, as well you know. And when she came to me, I did the best I could." "Why did you not have him executed? He insulted the dignity of a royal princesse!"  
"As much as Philippe and I quarrel, I cannot kill Lorraine...I couldn't do that to my brother."  
"Ah, so it's your brother you're sympathetic to. I mean I understand, you and he have more in common than most realize." Louis immediately straightened, a glitterng flash came into his eyes. "Charles." he growled warningly.  
"What's the problem, little cousin? You don't want me to talk about it? That's funny, because I remembered you used to beg me to talk."  
"Charles, that's done with."  
"You loved it when I regaled you with my tales of life in exile during my visits, I must've made it all seem like some sort of grand adventure, didn't I?" Charles chuckled lowly. "At night, you would slip into my rooms and beg me to finish the story...at least that was when you were young."  
"Charles! _Please._ "  
"Exactly like that. But it used to be Charlie until you decided that you were too old for stories, Mr. Big-Britches. But yet when Philippe and Henriette fell asleep, when the entirety of the palace turned in for the night and the candlelight burned low...you still continued to slip into my bed. Although by then, we'd progressed beyond the need for tales of adventure. In fact, we didn't talk very much at all during those times. You'd taken to singing instead."  
"I was seventeen and I was an idiot."  
"And you wished to beat Philippe at something, yes. At least, I suspect that was the initial reason. But, you no longer had anything to prove, did you? I suspect you never even told him about it."  
"I told no-one."  
“Truly?” Charles’ voice dropped to a whisper, those black Medici eyes suddenly deathly serious as he strode toward Louis, stopping mere inches from his guest. He tilted up Louis’ chin, forcing him to look up even more than he did already. “Truly.” Louis prayed he sounded sterner than he felt.  
“A shame. I think it would've made a fine story, don't you?” And then with the bridging of the gap, neither of them spoke more. Louis felt his bones turn into mashed potatoes with every kiss, his body all but slumping against Charles and knees threatening to give out from under him with every stroke of tongue. His eyelids grew heavy, it was almost as if gravity was threatening to pull him down and his cousin was the only thing keeping him semi-upright...wait, when did he end up on the tips of his toes?! When had Charles leaned down further, curses! The older man still had him under his spell after all these years, this absolutely would not do! He was here to bolster France, not get caught in...whatever this was with his cousin! He'd killed this thing between them years ago for a reason, after all. Or rather, his mother had killed it when she caught them together in a most un-familial position but that was neither hear nor there.  


  
Suddenly, the fall of foosteps could be heard echoing nearby and the two broke apart...Louis had never heard anything sweeter. "Gibbins?" Charles turned to question the short, portly man who had entered the antechamber. "I brought that chair you requested, Sire."  
"Excellent, set it down. Now if you'd be so good as to leave us, I have some catching up to do with my dear cousin." Soon the chamber was empty, leaving just the two of them sitting across from each other. Louis cleared his throat. "Now, about my proposal..."  
"Oh yes, I heard all about it. I read it over with my advisors when your page brought it to me, you know the one you sent instead of a diplomat? Anyway, I'm afraid I cannot accept these terms in their entirety."  
"Is there something wrong with them?"  
"Many things, cousin mine. For example, you wish us to turn on our allies and join you in invading them...not so bad by itself, people do it all the time. However, you seem to think that England is a small, insignificant neighbor with no ambitions of its own."  
"Your relationships with the Church have been...rocky, to say the least." Louis said. "We are willing to help you restore those relationships."  
"Yes, but what guarantee do we have? I simply cannot go off your word alone, surely you would understand."  
"Of course, I wouldn't ask you to."  
"Your proposal leans far too heavily in France's interests."  
"How so? It's my duty to work in France's interests."  
"Of course, just as it's my duty to work in England's." All traces of humor had left Charle's face, only the determined look of the negotiator remained. "And I can say with certainty that your treatise does _not_ work in England's best interests. Unless you have something that can change that, I do believe we don't have much to say to each other." Louis' face remained placid, but his mind was turning. He was losing him, and quickly...he had to find a way to flip the negotiations in his favor, but how? _Henriette, what would **you** do if you were here? You know him better than anyone..that's why I wanted to send you._ Then it clicked...Henriette. That was it. Louis flipped through his brain, trying to remember things she'd told him about Charles and England when they were together. His eyes went to the fireplace burning to their left, this place was always perpetually cold. Then it clicked.  
"Fire." he whispered.  
"Cousin? Are you quite well?"  
Louis straightened and turned to Charles, a harder and more focused look had come over him. "How much, cousin?"  
"What?"  
"How much? You feared that we did not have any guarantees to offer you, but I just thought of something. You need money, we have money. We need ships, you have ships...I didn't come to rob you, we can make a fair trade."  
"Are you trying to bribe me?"  
"Not at all. You're bankrupt, cousin." Charles merely laughed, but Louis spoke before he could get a word out. "Don't bother denying it, I know. You think you're the only one that Henriette tells things to? Between the plague and the Great Fire, the city of London, and thus England has been taking quite a battering. Plus, I know that you want to get out from under the thumb of Parliament."  
"What do you know about Parliament?"  
"You're frustrated, they control your purse strings and thus you cannot act as you wish to. How a king should be able to act, they tie your hands. You have to beg them for money every time you need something, that's no position for a sovereign to be in. I can help you out with that, at least a little. And you won't have to beg me to do it...so I'll ask again. How much would you like?"  
Charles stared at Louis stunned, damn Minette and her damn loose lips! He certainly would have to write her as soon as possible, they were going to talk about this. His cousin certainly looked a bit like the cat that'd caught the canary...he didn't want to satisfy that look at all, Louis hadn't lost a drop of his arrogance. If anything, it seemed to have swollen like a flood. But as much as he hated his little cousin's smugness, he hated the shackles that Parliament had on him far more. If he could loosen those, just a bit...  
"We will discuss this futher, perhaps over dinner?"  
"I'd like that, thank you."  
"Excellent, I'll send someone to show you to your rooms. They were the best we could find on such short notice, but..."  
"It's fine, I'm sure they are perfectly fine."  


  
Soon they were sitting down at a smaller, more private table instead of the larger one used in the banquet hall. Charles gave the staff explicit instructions that they were not to be disturbed. "So, cousin.." Louis began, but Charles held up a hand to silence him as he finished his mouthful of bread and cheese. "You haven't touched a thing, aren't you hungry?"  
"My mind is too full, it's distracting to my belly."  
"I'll be happy to help unburden you, I have a question anyway. Your offer is...tempting, but there's something I need to ask you before I give you an answer." Charles leaned back in his chair and Louis leaned forward on his elbows, casually waving his hand. "Why is it that you want to go to war with Holland? Have they attacked any of your territories?"  
"No. Instead, they are attacking my court. I have reason to believe that William of Orange has been planting moles in my palace..."  
"Are you sure that's not just your paranoia talking, Lulu?"  
"What?! No!"  
"England's had quite a prosperous relationship with Holland, all I ask is that you give us a good reason for jeapordizing it. England and France however have been natural enemies. It's not that I have a quarrel against you personally, cousin...it's just that I'm a bit worried about this plan of yours."  
"If we invade Holland, the new strategic position will be beneficial to us both and the territories will bring a great deal of benefit to France..."  
"Or of benefit to yourself."  
"What do you mean by that?!"  
"What I mean is that I know you, little cousin. You idolized Alexander the Great and Julius Caesar, even as a little boy. You always wanted to be like them...are you certain that you just don't want to conquer the world? You've already admitted to me that you wish to place yourself in the center of the universe..."  
"I wish to place _France_ in the center of the universe, where she belongs."  
"And why does she belong there any more than anyone else? Such ambition is concerning."  
"Well excuse me for wanting more for myself and my country! I didn't know that was such a crime."  
"The thought isn't exactly a crime, rather it's the steps that you're willing to take to bring those thoughts to fruition that may be considered a crime. You'll probably be willing to fuck anyone over, even family."  
Louis felt his blood rising again, but made a valiant effort to tamp it down. However, that effort was not entirely successful. He'd surely had Charles in his pocket a second ago, what happened?! "I told you before, I did not come to...!"  
"So you say." Charles' voice rose the tiniest bit, now he was angry too. Wonderful, _fucking_ wonderful. "But I do not entirely trust you!"  
"Why not?! Haven't I proven myself trustworthy?!"  
"Absolutely not! First you come here unannounced, demanding an audience. Then you fling this totally impossible proposal in my face, which you know is ridiculous. And after all that, you offer to sweeten the pot with money! Those are not the actions of a trustworthy person, Louis. Those are the actions of the same little boy I met all those years ago, who's only seemed to have grown in height and age. Someone who's willing to go to any lengths to get what he wants because he is not content with what he has, who would want to work with such a person? Although your proposal is tempting, as I have said before...I don't want it coming back and biting me in the arse."  
"So you say that I should sit silently, make no noise and just be content with my lot?" Louis seethed.  
"Yes, dear cousin. I know it'll be difficult for you, but your lot isn't so bad." Charles had reverted back to his calm, jovial self...at least outwardly. "I mean you're king of France, you have your palace now. You're wealthy, young. You're bringing all the nobles under your control from what I'm hearing, and you have a steady supply of lovely ladies and competent ministers. What more could a man want?"  
"I want _everything_ , Charles." Louis voice was calm, collected. His face impassive once more. "I want everything. I want to make France the most powerful and sophisticated country on earth, I want my name and hers to echo throughout the history books for generations to come, I want to spread the glory of France throughout the world. I can't accomplish those things if I sit back and twiddle my thumbs. Forgive me cousin, but some of us can't just stay on our little island and ignore the rest of the world, that's not all I want. And I find myself very hard-pressed to believe that it's all you want too. How could a man who worked for eleven years to get his throne back, who always told glorious tales of his exploits, how could you let your tale end on this page? You said that England has ambitions of its own, surely you want more than this?"  
"Like you said, I was young then. As I got older and have gone through things, I've learned that sometimes a little goes a long way. If I'm not remembered by history, I've learned to be okay with that."  
Louis shook his head. "Well I have bigger dreams than that. I don't want to just be a footnote in France's history, I want to be on the world stage and I'll get there one way or another." Standing up, he pushed his chair in and leaned over the back. "If you'll excuse me, majesty...I'm going up to my rooms for a while. I'd like to get some rest."  
"Yes. Go. I need to rest as well." was all that Charles said in response. Louis bowed to him and made to leave, but Charles called out to him. "Don't you still wish to discuss your proposal?"  
"Indeed...but perhaps later. I've probably taken up far too much of your time today already."  


  


  


  
Louis didn't sleep, but instead was pacing back and forth as the crash of thunder and the pour of rain fell down around his ears. Yikes, was the weather always this awful in England?! How was Charles so happy all the time living in such a hole?! Well, he supposed that one had to laugh in order to keep from crying. _I know that if I had to live here, I'd probably cry._ How stupid was he?! He'd finally gotten Charles to consider the proposal and he may have just blown his chance to destroy William of Orange forever! Taking another swig out of the goblet in his hand, the wine had yet to do anything to calm his nerves. He needed a plan, he needed one quick and he needed one that would _work._ He shuddered to think of the consequences of returning to France empty-handed, William becoming King of Holland and finally gaining the power to destroy him. That "I told you so" look that he'd inevitably get from his brother, the jeers of enemies both in his own palace and abroad. The disappointment in the eyes of his people, in Henriette's eyes. He couldn't let it happen. Perhaps he should've brought the charming Louise de Kerouaille with him, beauty was always a weakness easily exploited. Charles, and Louis himself were no different in that regard than any other man. But Charles wasn't stupid. Frivolous and lazy, but not stupid...he'd have seen through the ploy as soon as they landed. Sighing deeply, Louis flopped down on the bed and turned his eyes toward the ceiling. _God, give me a sign. Something, anything at all. Seriously, I'm not picky at this point because I need this and my country needs this...how in the world am I supposed to think with that racket?!_ Louis groaned as another thunderclap rattled the palace's very shutters. Curse thunderstorms, no wonder Charles never liked them. Maybe he should just go to sleep and try again in the morning...  
"Yes!" Louis shouted, bolting upright, hair falling around his face. It was brilliant! With an almost manic look in his eyes, he looked up at the ceiling again. "Thank you God, I knew I could count on you!" This time, it came out in a whisper. He climbed out of bed and walked to a nearby mirror, examining his hair and dressing gown. When satisfied, he snatched the full bottle of wine off the tray that the servant had left and made his way down the hall silent as a ghost. Hopefully he wouldn't get lost.  


  


  
"Will that be all, Sire?"  
"What?" Charles muttered, tearing his gaze from the uncovered window. "Yes, thank you my good man." he said with a careless wave of his hand. The servant bows to his king before leaving, Charles letting out an uncomfortable sigh as he settled against the pillows. Sleep had been eluding him, as it always had during these bouts of weather. At his age, he shouldn't be scared of thunderstorms anymore...but all he could think about was the flight from England. Living like a peasant, not having seen a proper bed in months. Having to sleep in trees and his feet bleeding from too-small shoes, he was a wanted man for the simple crime of being related to an unpopular king. He got little rest, and during a thunderstorm it seldom came at all. Having to look over his shoulder already, the thunderclaps always sounded like the firing of muskets to him which led to him jolting awake wondering if this was the night that the enemy had finally discovered him. Plus, trees were tall objects (much like him). He was sleeping in a very flammable lightning-rod, and he knew it. Another booming shock made Charles hug his knees to his chest for what little comfort it would offer, letting the bit of calm and quiet that came into his head wash over him which was suddenly disrupted by a knock on his door. A knowing and relieved look almost immediately appeared on his face. There was only one who would be so brazen as to approach the king's private quarters this time of night, she must've known that he would need comfort. "My dear Barbara..." But Charles opened the door and instead of his longterm mistress, it reveals his cousin looking surprisingly small in his nightshirt. Louis had always been small, but the way he wrapped his dressing gown around himself made him look almost...tiny, and vulnerable. His eyes didn't have the arrogant, piercing gaze that they had all day, but instead were nervously staring down at his own shoes. "Louis? Why are you up at this hour?" Disappointment laced Charles' voice.  
"Perhaps I missed my big cousin. I wished to talk to you." Louis scanned his face, but when he took in Charles' reddened eyes and tired look, a bit of genuine concern actually leaked into his expression. "I see you still don't like thunderstorms."  
"You'd be correct. Why are you here?"  
"Like I said, I wished to talk to you. You say I'm the paranoid one but I don't at least see malice in every move you make. You look like you can use some company, I've brought wine." Louis held up the bottle, and Charles sighed. "You aren't quite the company I had in mind."  
"If you want me to go, I will." Louis turned to leave, but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. "Wait!" Another sigh escaped him. "Stay, please."  
"Very well." Louis smiled, locking the door behind him.  


  
"You look awful, Charles."  
"I'm well aware of that, thank you. And thank _you_ for coming to see me, I suppose."  
"Of course. If you don't sleep, you'll be absolutely awful to deal with tomorrow. Trust me, I would know."  
"If you came here to try to negotiate, you can turn right back around to your rooms and leave now."  
"Relax, I was only stating facts. I originally did come here to negotiate...but then I saw your face and again, you look like dog shit. I know what you're going through, I too have nightmares." The two of them were sitting on Charles' bed, wine flowing like the rain outside.  
"Of the Fronde?"  
"Among other things. They've been unusually frequent ever since the Annoying Orange decided to fuck with my life."  
Charles laughed. "That's my nephew, Louis." With some liquor in the two of them, they seemed a bit more amiable.  
"So? He's my cousin and I still don't like him. Seriously, _fuck_ that guy."  
"Fuck that guy? Deciding to share stories with a newer model, eh Lulu?"  
Louis made a face as if someone had put a bowl of sewage in front of him and expecting that he eat it. "Eww, as if! Even if I decided to do...that, one day, I'd choose somebody who didn't look like they were still in primary school."  
Charles made to laugh again, but was cut off by a flash of lightning...instinctively he leaned against his cousin, the only person in the room and clung to Louis' dressing gown as if his body moved on its own. The unexpected feel of fingers running across his heated, slightly sweaty skin quickly snapped him back to reality, however. "What are you doing, Louis?"  
"When Philippe or I had a nightmare, Mother used to rub our foreheads to calm us down. It put me to sleep every time, so it was the first thing I thought of...although I had to find new ways of dealing with nightmares after she died. Is it helping?"  
"A little bit, thank you. How do you deal with nightmares now?" Charles' sigh this time was a sigh of relief...some of the tension was leaving his body. "Bontemps is a great help, he's always next to me so if I'm frightened I can talk to him about it and he won't judge me. I honestly don't know where I'd be without Alexandre, do you have anyone like that?"  
"I have Barbara...she's a godsend. Especially where the thunderstorms are concerned, she puts me back to sleep near instantly."  
"What does she do?"  
"She rubs my forehead sometimes, like you're doing at the moment."  
"Interesting, what else?"  
"She'd put her arm around me like you're doing. And a lot of the time, she'd kiss me."  
"Like how you kissed me in the antechamber?"  
"A lot like that, but a little different I think." Charles turned to face Louis, who sat with an arm around his shoulders. He was unaware of how or when it happened, but all he knew is that his cousin's lips were on his again...this time, Louis was leading. Charles' fingers tangled in Louis' hair to pull him closer, biting his lower lip to demand entry that was willingly given. Louis was unsure of how long they stayed like that, but he felt rather drunker than he had been only moments ago. He chuckled at the displeased sound Charles made when he eventually pulled away, dizzy from lack of air and cheeks as red as his robe. He was very pleased to find that Charles was in a very similar state. "Like that?" Louis asked with a twinkle in his eye and a grin on his face.  
"Yes, exactly like that. You know, you're almost as pretty as her."  
"You think so?"  
"Yes, you have the same blue eyes. If it weren't for the mustache and flat chest, I could almost mistake you for Babs." The words came out a gasp as the shock on Charles' face slowly melted into that small smile, a twinkle appearing in his own dark eyes. "This will not sway the negotiations in your favor."  
"Now who's talking about negotiations? What makes you believe I'm doing this because of that?"  
"Why else would you do it, wily one?"  
"Maybe I'm drunk. Or bored, or horny, or some odd combination of the three."  
"Drorny?" Charles offered, and they both erupted into giggles.  
"Yes, drorny! I didn't know they actually made a word for it."  
"They didn't, I just made it up."  
"Of course you did, you were always good with words ever since I've known you." With a sigh, Louis leaned into his cousin...pillowing his head on the taller man's shoulder. Charles looked down and Louis looked up, communicating silently until Charles felt a hand run up his arm. He made absolutely no effort to stop it. "Tell me a story, Charlie."  
Since sitting made them a lot closer in height, it was no great effort for Charles to lean down and press their lips gently together. "Of course. How could I say no to my favourite cousin?"  



End file.
